To Be a King
by Kirsh
Summary: Deathwing has long sought to be the sole power of the Aspects, and now he has concocted a plan that will get him exactly that - if he succeeds in breaking the other four Aspects to his will, that is. Written for Warlockery as a request.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

He alighted on a precipice that shifted and groaned under his weight. Tiny pebbles rained down the mountainside, a mock avalanche that was testament to his great strength. The stone would hold; it always held, and would always and forever answer to his call. Neltharion the Earth Warder, or Deathwing, as he preferred to call himself, folded his wings against his sides and surveyed the barren, snow-capped mountains that were his current lair. He looked the part of an Aspect studying his territory for intruders, but in reality, he was watching his kingdom for any signs that he might have been followed. Seeing no movement, not even the slightest feather of a griffon or the glimmer of scales of a dragon, Deathwing turned to enter his lair via the cave just below the precipice, hidden by the mountain's natural curve and a little bit of magic, just in case prying eyes were indeed watching.

As the black dragon entered the cavernous entry way, he allowed his draconic form - a masterpiece of jet black scales, precious stones and metals, and the strength of earth itself - to melt away into that of a human with dark hair, dark skin, and golden eyes that had the slightest touch of crimson around the irises. Dark armor encased the strong, muscular shape he wore, but there was no mistaking him for anything other than the Earth Warder, the master of the earth and its deep places. Deathwing walked deeper into the cavern, allowing his fingers to caress the soot-black walls. The mountain seemed to shudder, as if it were welcoming him home. He smiled, baring his teeth, and plunged himself into pure darkness.

The tunnel twisted and turned, rocks sliding this way and that on his command to change the path just in case someone was indeed following him. At last the darkness began to recede as an orange glow grew at the end of the tunnel. The heat began to increase as well, changing from the cool air of the surface to the hot, broiling turmoil of the deep earth. It didn't bother Deathwing at all, considering he was just as much at home in the dark cradle of the tunnel as he was in the lava-lit caverns he was entering. His eyes adjusted immediately and he exited onto a walkway that overlooked the main chamber of his underground lair.

It was full of motion and noise.

Goblins ran back and forth across the floor below, shouting and shrieking at one another. There was steam gushing from their contraptions, bright colors dancing along the stone walls from potions and other things bubbling on alchemical tables, and body parts flying as the unwary found themselves caught in their own experiments and machines. It was chaos, but somehow there was an elegance to it that made Deathwing smile. The smile didn't last long, dropping off his face almost as soon as it was born. There wasn't time to smile, said the voice inside him. Not if he wanted to accomplish his goals and ensure his power would never be challenged. He turned and strode across the walkway to the rickety stairs that one goblin or another had constructed. They held under his weight, but that didn't stop him from growling curses at the architect when the stairs began to lean one way or another. He reached the ground and found himself amidst the chaos, watching small pointy-eared green bodies rush to and fro, avoiding him at the last second and then catching themselves before they glowered at the dragon who was their master.

It only took one or two to burst into flames before the goblins learned to avoid him as he waded through the sea of motion.

He found the goblin he was looking for standing on a hastily-erected platform, obviously controlling the chaos by yelling and pointing. He was slightly taller than the average goblin, with dark emerald skin that sported scars from deep burns. Tufts of hair stuck up every which way from his head, and soot-covered goggles were pushed up to rest against his forehead. Deathwing stepped up to the platform, which really only came to his chest, and stared at the goblin until the wretch recognized that he was in the presence of the Aspect.

The goblin fell to his knees almost immediately, prostrating himself before the dragon. "Master! I wasn't expecting you so soon!"

"Save the formalities and drivel, Kizraz." Deathwing snapped, his voice rumbling like thunder. "Have you done what I commanded you to do?"

"Yes, of course! It wasn't easy, Master, but I did it." Kizraz leaped off the platform to land at Deathwing's feet, making a 'come here' gesture toward the dragon. Deathwing chose to tolerate the insolent motion only so long as the goblin spoke true. "This way. This way."

Somehow Kizraz navigated the chaos surging around them with mechanical precision. Deathwing followed the goblin without bothering to step aside for anyone - or anything - that got in his way. He simply walked over it. Or on it. The corners of his lips twitched when he bowled over some hapless goblin that hadn't been looking where he or she was going and was trampled beneath his boots. Deathwing was led out of the main room of the cavern and into a smaller cave that had been dug out perhaps a month or two earlier in preparation. It was curved, much like a bubble, that had four small windows carved into the wall. Each window looked down into a chamber below the observation room. Each chamber was separate and unique, designed specifically for its occupant. Deathwing peered through each window, his smile growing wider as he did.

"We managed to capture them, just like you asked, oh Great One." Kizraz said from behind Deathwing. "We lost many capturing that one, and the other one. But the sacrifices weren't in vain, no, Master. We managed to ensure they had their medicine, yes, Master, we did."

"Good. I'm glad to know some of my servants aren't complete idiots."

Kizraz's chest puffed out, probably with pride. "I made sure each goblin dealing with them wore two or three vials of the potion, just in case they were eaten. I didn't want to take any chances. No chances, because the Master ordered it so."

"I did, didn't I?" Deathwing rumbled with laughter. He could almost taste his victory, here and now, in this very moment. Yet he was far from finished. No, merely capturing them wasn't enough. Holding them prisoner wasn't enough. He wanted to break them. He wanted to destroy everything that they were and rebuild them to fit his vision. And now was his chance to do exactly that. "Kizraz."

"Yes, Master?"

"I'm going to visit our first guest. See to it that we are not disturbed for any reason."

"Yes, Master."

"For any reason, Kizraz. Not even if my own flight comes asking. Or _you_ will be asking for a swift death."

Kizraz swallowed. "I understand, Master."

Deathwing spun about and started to leave the room. "And no one is to enter here, or I'll make sure they burn."

The goblin swallowed again and produced a large key from somewhere in his tunic. He presented it to Deathwing, then followed the Earth Warder out of the circular room. Kizraz turned to grip an iron bar set into the left side wall beside the room's opening. He pulled with all his strength, and an steel door peeled away from the wall. With his arms straining from the effort, he pulled and pulled until the door had swung out halfway. Then Kizraz stopped pulling and moved around to the front of the door. Bracing himself against it, the goblin began to push the door closed. It locked into place a minute or two later, and Kizraz locked the door with the key. With great reverence, he approached Deathwing and offered him the key.

Deathwing took it from Kizraz and stuffed the key into his belt, ensuring that it would always be with him. Kizraz looked up at the Aspect with wide, fearful eyes. For a moment, Deathwing couldn't figure out why the goblin was regarding him with such an expression, but then he realized that there was a low, constant rumble filling the room. Laughter.

 _His_ laughter.

Allowing himself a premature taste of victory, Deathwing threw back his head and roared in his mirth, allowing his captives below to hear what was coming for them. The sweetest thought about that was that none of them knew who would be first or who would be last. They would be forever wondering, forever guessing. And that was the weakest of the tools Deathwing would use.

He stopped laughing and spun on his heel, stalking down another corridor off to the right of the circular viewing room. Down he went, deeper and deeper into the earth, where the heat was mitigated by goblin contraptions that brought cool, fresh air down into the chamber-like rooms. The main tunnel he stood in branched off into four separate directions, each one unique and separate from the rest. The goblins had marked each tunnel with a brass plaque that sported a singular name, as per his orders. He read each name and fixed a distinct order in his mind. It would take a long time to accomplish what he wanted, whispered the voices in his mind. Eventually, someone would ask questions. _Not to worry_ , he replied. _I've figured everything out. I_ will _get what I want this time._

Choosing one of the four tunnels, Deathwing strode down the hand-carved path, heading to the first room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ysera**

She of the Dreaming, the Aspect of the Green Flight, lifted her head and opened her eyes to gaze around the chamber she was trapped within. How long she had been here, she didn't know. Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months - time was something fluid and fleeting. She couldn't sense the sun's movement, nor the moon's. She couldn't sense anything familiar about the place. She wasn't dead, that much she knew. How long that would last was something she couldn't even begin to fathom. She held on to the hope that she would be rescued, of course, but it was a slim hope if no one knew where she was. Ysera wasn't sure if she was alone in her captivity, or if she was imagining the sounds of screams and cries that echoed in her mind. She barely remembered how she had ended up in this chamber. Her memories were flashing, short-lived things, mostly noise and not much substance. Yet, she was certain goblins had been involved.

Yes, goblins _had_ been involved. Ysera had been curled up in the Emerald Dragonshrine, her mind lost amidst the primal beauty that was the Emerald Dream. She had been drawn back to the mortal world by the foul stench of creatures she knew had never set foot in her Dragonshrine before, and had found herself under attack by a hundred or more of the tiny, green beasts. They carried thick iron chains and fetters, a muzzle made of riveted iron pieces that would have fit over her head had she allowed them to get close enough to put it on. She had fought them, crushing many under her feet and sending more into the forever dream. Yet they kept coming, and as she snapped her attackers up and swallowed them down, she began to grow more and more lethargic. Then, she simply ceased to know anything.

She had woken here in this dimly lit chamber in her two-legged form, that of a beautiful night elf. She had been placed onto a table made of thick wood and bound there by thicker steel and iron. Chains wrapped around her arms and legs and held her fast. Even if she strained with all her might, the chains never budged, never groaned with impending weakness. Nor could she change forms from night elf to dragon. Something in this room was keeping her from doing so. Whoever had engineered her capture had ensured that it wouldn't be easy for her to escape on her own.

A key suddenly turned in the lock on a door Ysera couldn't see. Hinges squealed as the door opened and the heavy tread of boots filled the room. Ysera couldn't see who it was coming toward her, but her heart began to hammer in her chest and her breath picked up, which she fought to keep even and under control. If her captor thought she was still unconscious, there was a chance he would undo the chains binding her to fulfill whatever intent he had for her. Then she could orchestrate her escape.

The door closed with obscene gentleness, and whoever had entered stopped moving.

Ysera fought to keep still. She had to keep still, or she would give herself away.

The silence continued for several heartbeats, which then stretched into minutes. It was so quiet that Ysera could hear the thrum of her own blood in her ears, but nothing else. Was someone still here with her? Was there anyone in the room besides her? She couldn't tell. She bit her tongue to keep from calling out, tensed every muscle in her body to keep from squirming, but the silence was beginning to scare her. Not even the Emerald Dream contained such stillness, such silence.

At last, Ysera could control herself no longer. She let out the pent-up breath she had been holding and tried to twist her upper body enough that she could angle her head to look behind her.

A dark-skinned hand slammed down onto the table beside her head, making her cry out. She stared up into the golden-crimson eyes of a man she recognized with a feeling of terrible dread. In his human guise, he was handsome. Clean-shaven with a strong jaw, Neltharion the Earth Warder's - Deathwing's - looks could make any female's heart flutter, if she was just looking at the surface beauty. His skin was flawless and smooth. His dark hair was slicked back from his face, and was cut shorter than she remembered it being. He stared down at her with a smoldering, attentive gaze, that made her tense once more.

And, worse, he said nothing. Just stared at her.

"Why?" Ysera croaked, hating that her voice wouldn't sound as she wanted it to.

Deathwing's lips twitched into a tight smile. "Why not?" he responded.

"Alezstrasza and the others will-"

His hand moved toward her face. Ysera flinched, then shivered when his hand settled gently against her cheek and slowly made a trail south across her jaw and lips, stroking the flesh with gentleness unbecoming of him. "Oh, I'm sure Alexstrasza and the others will. It's been a long time since we were all together like this, and I want to savor every moment of it."

Ysera stared at Deathwing with wide eyes. "What do you want?"

"The world, of course. For Azeroth to bow down to me as its rightful ruler. For the lesser races to recognize my power, to fear me and know they live by my benevolence alone."

"You won't succeed. If I cannot stop you, Alexstrasza surely will."

"Shall we bet on it?"

Ysera narrowed her eyes at him, concerned about the tone of voice he spoke with. Deathwing spoke as if he had already won, as if he knew something she didn't. His fingers continued to trace a gentle path down her throat to her chest, caressing the curves of her breasts without delving beneath the material covering them. It made Ysera shiver, because the touch was so gentle, so unlike Deathwing, that it confused and scared her. And, worse, it made her blood begin to burn.

"You don't have to say anything," Deathwing continued, "because in the end it isn't going to matter. One of you will break first and one of you will break last. Whether that's you or one of the others remains yet to be seen."

Ysera snarled at him and lunged toward Deathwing's face. He jerked back from her, but it was languid and slow, as if he knew she couldn't actually reach him. Ysera's head hit the table, her cheek stinging from the hard slap. "You won't win!" she screamed at him. "I will never break! No matter what you do to me, no matter how much pain you inflict, I will never break!"

Deathwing smiled, baring his teeth. His hand returned to her chest, caressing her breasts through the fabric now, and trailing lower, over her stomach. His fingers made odd little circles around her belly button before trailing up over her ribs and down over her sides. "I have no intention of harming you in any way, Ysera. I have no intention of breaking you with pain. Trust me, though. You _will_ break." He squeezed her breast, pinching her nipple through her top. Ysera gasped and arched, hating the way lightning sizzled through her blood and made her body tense in another way.

Then Deathwing removed his hand and left her. The door slammed behind him and once again, the key turned, locking her in. Ysera let out a gasp and felt tears sting the corners of her eyes. She let them fall because she couldn't stop the turmoil of emotions taking over her, just as she couldn't stop the memory of Deathwing's touch upon her skin.

He visited her an hour later, or maybe ten minutes later. Maybe a day later. Ysera couldn't tell. Sometimes she was left alone for hours, his touch lingering on her skin. His fingers were obscenely gentle as they stroked her stomach and sides, teasingly arousing when they stroked her breasts and nipples. At some point, her top had been removed, leaving her naked from the waist up. Deathwing never once used pain, just as he promised. Pain was easy to run from. Pleasure was not. She wished he would stop. She wished he would kill her. She wished he would continue because the fire he awoke in her was more excruciating than any physical torture he could inflict. He would stoke that fire and then leave her to roast in it, unfulfilled. It was constant and unending. Each time Ysera believed Deathwing would finally finish her, he stopped. He never spoke more than necessary either. He never said anything that gave her hope of rescue, or hope of having the fire quenched. He only smiled in varying degrees.

Hating herself, Ysera began to crave those smiles and those touches. He rewarded her with caresses to her breasts if she arched in just the right way. He rewarded her with obscenely gentle kisses to her neck and shoulders if she whimpered softly for him. He rewarded her with featherlight touches to her hips and thighs if she whispered his name. But if she did something that displeased him, Deathwing would bring her to the very edge and leave her there, snidely saying, "Well, if you don't really want it, there's someone else who could use my attention."

Ysera didn't know how long she endured Deathwing's brand of torture before she finally couldn't take it anymore. She had done something to please him - she couldn't remember what - that had caused Deathwing to remove what remained of her clothing, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. His touches now spidered up and down her thighs and over her abdomen, tickling through the triangle of dark hair between her legs and stroking the hot, wet flesh below in slow, gentle circles as her body arched and writhed. Her voice called out his name in a thready, needy tone, and she fought against the chains that bound her still to the table, wanting more of him. Deathwing only continued to smile, rewarding her by slipping his fingers inside her and stroking the velvety inner flesh until Ysera was all but thrashing.

Yet, still, he left her burning on that table, dripping wet and aroused beyond any imaginable pain, and Ysera cried. She cried not because she hated herself for enjoying what Deathwing was doing to her, but because she wanted him, every inch of him, and she couldn't figure out what she had done wrong. She couldn't figure out what she had done that displeased him so.

He was gone for hours. Days. Weeks. Maybe months. Ysera didn't know. She comforted herself by imagining Deathwing's touches, the ghost-memories of actual physical contact. She craved it. It was the only thing that made her feel sane.

At some point, he returned. He stood staring at her, arms crossed over his chest, gaze smoldering as he regarded the once mighty Aspect of the Green Flight. Ysera stared back at him, chest heaving, tongue darting out to wet her lips. Now that Deathwing was with her, nothing else mattered. She undulated against the table, trying to entice him closer, trying to please him. Ysera didn't know how, but even Deathwing's gaze seemed to be like a physical touch. His golden-red eyes started at her face and raked down her body, lingering on her breasts, on her stomach, on her legs and what was between them. His nose flared as he scented her, as he smelled her want and need. The entire chamber was filled with it.

And still, he didn't move. Deathwing continued to stand there and stare with that disappointed look on his face.

"Please," Ysera said suddenly, her voice pitched higher in her plea, "please, Deathwing. Please!"

He moved now, closer. She could feel his heat against her and whimpered, moaning softly as her body reacted. Her nipples hardened. Her thighs became slick with her fluids. "Please, what, Ysera?" he asked.

The bass rumble of his voice made her keen and her body arch. Ysera strained against the chains holding her, wanting to reach him and hating that she couldn't. "I don't want to live like this anymore!" she cried. "Please, I can be good! I can show you if you give me the chance!"

Deathwing cocked his head at her, a smile playing on his lips that would scare anyone in their normal mind. "Oh, really? Can you please me better than Alexstrasza? Can you please me more than Malygos? Than Nozdormu?"

"Yes!"

"Well, you're not doing a very good job so far. The show was nice, but a little lackluster. Perhaps you need another lesson?"

"No! Please, Master, don't leave me! Don't leave me like this! I can please you more than any of the others! I can! Just let me show you!"

Deathwing reached to stroke her cheek. The very caress of his flesh against hers made Ysera's eyes flutter and a whimper of utter pleasure escape her. "Very well, Ysera." Deathwing said, his voice warm and pleased. It caused lightning to strike down her spine, pleasure filling her until she felt she would burst. "I'll give you one chance. Please me, and I will give you what you want."

With a flick of his wrist, the chains snapped and slithered off her body to pool noisily to the floor. Ysera slid off the table and wobbled, barely able to stand after spending so much time on the table. Deathwing didn't catch her. She didn't expect her master to do such a trivial thing. If she couldn't stand on her own two feet, then she didn't deserve to please and serve him. Stubbornness and fear that her master would deign her unworthy kept her upright long enough to cross the small space between them. There she fell to her knees before him. Her fingers made quick work of his belt and the buttons of his pants. As her fingers wrapped around his thick flesh and drew him out, Deathwing let out a thunderous laugh and tangled his fingers in her hair. Galvanized by the display of affection, Ysera slid her tongue up his shaft and took the cap of his cock into her mouth, suckling on the hardening flesh as if it were the only source of her survival.

Deathwing grinned madly as he watched Ysera take him deeper into her mouth, then into her throat. She swallowed around his flesh once, then drew back and suckled on the tip once more. Her lips then trailed down his thick shaft to the base, then back up again, her teeth nibbling gently along the vein until she reached the tip once more. Then her lips parted and his cock disappeared into her mouth again. Her hands left his hips then, and he watched her cup her own breasts, pinching her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, rolling the hardened nubs until her entire body was twitching. Then one hand left her breasts and slid down her stomach, arriving between her legs. He let her do it, keeping a firm grip in her hair. He watched her hand move, knowing her fingers were sliding over her slickened flesh, perhaps even delving inside of her. The scent of her need filled his nostrils. Deathwing knew then he had succeeded with her, that he had broken She of the Dreaming, and that she was his to play with as he wanted.

But the final link in his chain of command over her had yet to be forged. It was building to that moment, though, he knew. He had denied himself each time he had pleasured her and left her wanting. He had taken his frustrations out on his own flight, the females who couldn't say no to him, to relieve himself, but it was a hollow satisfaction. What he was watching, what he was hearing right now, was proof that his patience and self-control had paid off. Her mouth played his cock like she was a maestro and his flesh her instrument. She truly did want to please him, her master. Her eyes focused on his then, and Deathwing saw there no disgust, no hatred, no sense of self, only the desire for praise and confirmation that Ysera was doing her duty and giving her master everything he wanted.

He finally pushed her away from him before Ysera could make him come. She whined, then quickly silenced herself as he narrowed his eyes. Even if he had no intention of letting her go, the subtle motion told him that she was his plaything and that she wanted nothing more than his approval.

Deathwing had intentionally made the cavern they were in large enough to be the lair of two dragons the size of an Aspect. It didn't look that way, or sound that way, because of the darkness that filled the ceiling of the cavern and the way that he had designed the dim lighting to only illuminate the immediate area around the table that held the captive in place. He held tightly to her hair as he stared into her eyes, his teeth bared in a victorious grin.

"Very good, Ysera." Deathwing purred, feeling the pleasured shiver course through her body at the sound of his voice. "I believe you. Now, promise to serve me for all eternity, promise to be mine to do with as I please. Surrender yourself to me. Say it. Say it, and assume your true form. Only then will I reward you with what you," he leaned down and kissed her hair, "so," kissed her forehead, "desperately," kissed her nose, "want." He devoured her mouth, forcing his tongue to twine with hers. Then he pulled back and released her.

She prostrated herself immediately, close to kissing the ground he walked upon. "I promise, Master, to serve you for all eternity. You are my only master, the only one I wish to please. I am yours, now and forever." Ysera leaned up, arching her back deliciously as her skin began to ripple and change. "Master, please! I beg of you! End my torment, please!"

Deathwing roared with laughter as he joined Ysera in the change. He was faster than she, but he knew she had no intention of fighting him or trying to escape. His powerful jaws locked around her emerald throat, forcing her submission. She gave it, barely making a sound as he bore her to the ground. If she struggled, he could break her neck with just a simple twist of his head. But she didn't. He could smell her more acutely now, her want and need, her desire and her brokenness. Deathwing released her throat and prowled around the once-Aspect, testing her resolve, making sure - at least once more, said the voices inside him - that she truly was broken and his loyal slave. Her muscles shivered and trembled, but she didn't move, save to follow him with her eyes.

"Ah, Ysera." Deathwing purred. "You are magnificent."

"Thank you, Master." Ysera replied, her voice quivering from want and need and the desire not to upset him and leave her.

"You deserve to be rewarded for your loyalty."

"...Thank you... Master..."

Deathwing stood behind Ysera now, grinning widely. He sank his sharp teeth into the back of Ysera's neck as he mounted her, just below her skull. It was a warning grip, not entirely painful, but enough to make Ysera's lips draw back from her teeth and a growl issue forth from her throat. Her body tensed as she felt his weight upon her back.

Deathwing pinned Ysera's wings to the ground with his front talons, drawing his head back from her neck and releasing his hold on her as she roared in hate and fear and tried to surge up against him. He laughed cruelly, only because he now had proof that he had been _right_ and as much as he had conditioned her to crave him and want him and obey him, there was still a glimmer of the old She of the Dreaming who struggled and fought against him to free herself. She bucked and writhed and tried to turn her neck so she could bite him on the shoulder or wing or face, but his heavier weight prevented her from doing just that. She screamed and roared and thrashed but he held on, waiting.

Her tail lashed, striking him in the thigh. A minor pain, a small price to pay for the reward.

Her movement, her panic, left her vulnerable. Deathwing shoved his entire weight down on Ysera and heard her gasp as all the air was driven out of her lungs. She had no strength to fight him now, and that was how he wanted it. Deathwing roared in victory and shoved his cock inside her. Her body fought him. Her slick, velvet insides clenched and contracted, trying to shove him out as her body bucked beneath him, trying to drive him off her. The sharp tang of blood filled the air as Deathwing drew his hips back until only the head of his cock was inside her, and then slammed them forward, driving him deeper into Ysera. She cried and howled, begged and pleaded for him to stop, and fought him until she had no strength left. Deathwing laughed, letting the sound rumble around the cavern like thunder. His talons dug into Ysera's scales, holding her down as he thrust deeper into her and deeper still. His rhythm was powerful and rough, driven by his need to destroy her. Over and over he pulled out and shoved back in, thrusting harder and harder until the scent of blood was overpowering the scent of sex.

He came, filling her with his seed. He knew she felt it because she tensed and then sagged as if the will to live had left her. He didn't pull out of her and leave her then. The thought of her finally breaking, finally becoming his made him hard again. This time, she didn't fight him. She made soft noises as he moved inside her, this time around a slow, leisurely pace. This time _he_ enjoyed it, letting her cry as he laughed. He took her over and over again, until he was panting and feeling exhausted himself. He bit into that verdant throat of Ysera's, growling as he came for the last time, releasing every last drop of his seed into her broken form. Only then did he pull out of her and step back, looking at the supine form of the once great Aspect of the Green Flight.

Ysera lifted her head and craned it enough to meet his gaze. Deathwing stared at her, towering over her, wings flared to make him look even bigger. There was nothing in Ysera's golden eyes, nothing that spoke of combat or battle, nothing that spoke of anything more than an empty shell that still breathed and moved and lived but was anything but alive. Deathwing parted his jaws and hissed lowly. Ysera's head bowed, making her smaller.

"How may I serve you, Master?" whispered Ysera, subdued and broken.

Deathwing began to laugh, and the earth shook as he did. "Come here."

She did.

"Turn around."

She did.

"Beg me."

Ysera, former Aspect of the Green Dragonflight, begged.

Deathwing mounted her, slid into her, and savored his victory as Ysera begged him to thrust deeper, ride her harder, and empty every last drop of his essence within her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Nozdormu**

The first thing Nozdormu, the Aspect of the Bronze Flight, the Aspect of Time, noticed when he woke up was that he was bound to a table by thick iron chains. They wrapped around his arms and legs and waist and held him fast. He strained his arms, but the chains didn't give. They didn't even move an inch. It was the same with his legs. He angled his head to look around the room he was in, but he saw nothing but a dimly lit cavern. A large cavern, enough to be a lair for two adult dragons. He frowned, trying to figure out how he had ended up here. The last thing he remembered was flying back from Wyrmrest Accord to the Bronze Dragonshrine when he was attacked by a pair of zeppelin manned by goblins. They had dogged his every move, driving him away from the shrine and then bearing him down to the ground. They had attacked him, knowing that they went to their doom when they did so. It bothered him slightly that he hadn't seen the zeppelin attack coming, but he had seen himself being victorious over his attackers. He swallowed more than a dozen, each one wearing two or three vials of strangely colored liquid. Goblin poisons would give him indigestion, of course, but they wouldn't kill him.

He wasn't sure when he had crashed into the ground. Perhaps between one heartbeat and the next, after his body suddenly felt leaden and his vision blurred. He'd hit head first and tumbled tail over head into the cold permafrost that was the ground of the Dragonblight.

And now, he was waking up here.

At last Nozdormu looked at his own body to ensure that he was not wounded. What he saw made the Aspect of Time roar in confusion.

He was naked.

 _She_ was naked!

Two round, perfect, rosy-tipped breasts moved with every breath Nozdormu took. He stared, unable to believe what he was seeing. His muscles strained, giving him scant few seconds to allow him to peer southwards. His head fell back against the table he was bound to with an audible thunk and he moaned in confusion and fear. What was happening to him? Why was he this way? What had caused him to become... to become _this_?

"Ah, I was wondering if it would work. You know, you make a stunning image, for a male forcibly turned female."

Nozdormu jerked and managed to crane his head toward the far wall of the cavern. Neltharion - no, Deathwing - leaned nonchalantly against an iron-bound door, his arms crossed over his chest. There was a slight lift to one corner of his mouth, a smirk that betrayed the Aspect's madness. "This," Nozdormu growled, "this was _your_ doing?!"

"Who else would be psychotic enough to capture an Aspect?"

"How _dare_ you be so presumptuous? How _dare_ you believe you can hold me captive! When the others learn of my disappearance-"

"Save it. I've heard the speech already."

That made Nozdormu stutter to a halt, his mouth half-open. Deathwing grinned wider then, and he pushed away from the door to stalk toward the bound Aspect. He moved slowly, predatorily, circling Nozdormu and eyeing him as if his new shape was a particularly tasty morsel. The bronze dragon growled, hating being oggled like he was prey, hating that he was bound and helpless, hating that his new form felt incredibly unfamiliar.

"When I am free," Nozdormu growled, "I will make sure you pay for this."

"Oh, of course. You and everyone else." Deathwing replied, entirely uncaring. He reached out and caressed Nozdormu's breasts, making the Aspect of Time hiss in hatred. He flinched away from Deathwing's touch, but couldn't go far. Deathwing's fingers slid along the soft flesh of his breasts and then pinched his nipples, making them rock hard within a few minutes and making Nozdormu snarl in hatred. "Now, now. If you're a good girl, I'll make sure you get all of my attention."

"I want nothing of yours, Destroyer!"

Deathwing's dark eyebrow rose and his teeth were bared in a wide smile. "Oh, I'm sure of that. But your tune will change. The others said the same thing, but their attitudes became much more... agreeable."

Nozdormu laughed. "Am I supposed to believe that Alezstrasza, Ysera, and Malygos are here, your captives?"

"Captives is such a harsh word. I prefer slaves."

A shiver ran down Nozdormu's spine. "You're lying."

"Am I?" Deathwing's smile vanished, moving away from Nozdormu's chest and head and closer to his bare legs. "Come now, do you really think I'd lie about something like that? I like to gloat about my victories, Nozdormu. I'm sorry, excuse me. Nozdormi. What pleasure is there for me in lying about them?"

"Don't call me that." growled Nozdormu.

"Why not? It's your name. Nozdormi. It has a nice ring to it."

"Your foul potion will wear off. Whatever you have planned for me, it won't succeed."

"You're making many assumptions about my plans, Nozdormi. Have you seen something? Why don't you be a good girl and tell me all about it."

Nozdormu snarled, his voice filling the cavern with violence. Deathwing ignored the sound and merely trailed his fingers up the outside of Nozdormu's left thigh, then over it to his inner thigh, and then up to the wiry thatch of hair and the soft folds of flesh between his legs. If his legs hadn't been chained down, Nozdormu would have landed the kick he tried to make. Deathwing laughed at his futile attempt and continued to tease at Nozdormu, making the bronze dragon hiss and writhe. Then, suddenly, Deathwing pulled away from Nozdormu entirely, still smiling.

Nozdormu snarled, the sound breathy and weak even to his own ears. "You won't win. You won't. No matter what you do to me, I won't break. I won't succumb. Even if the others fall, I will not."

Deathwing's smile seemed to disappear at that statement, and his golden-red eyes sparked dangerously. "We'll see, pet. We'll see."

Then he was gone and Nozdormu was alone.

He was alone for hours. Maybe days. Even as the Aspect of Time, he couldn't sense its passing. Maybe it was because he was bound in a static room, a chamber of stone, forever unchanging. He could hear nothing save for his own breathing. When Deathwing did return, it was accompanied by a heralding roar, a voice Nozdormu recognized as Ysera's. Despite the audible evidence, Nozdormu still couldn't believe that he had managed to capture She of the Dreaming or anyone else. It had to be a trick. It had to be. Then Deathwing shut the door and all sound was cut off. It was just the two of them.

At first, Deathwing did nothing. He simply circled and stared at Nozdormu, as if inspecting him for any sign that the potion was wearing off. It wasn't. Nozdormu feared that the potion was permanent, that he was stuck this way for the rest of his life. He didn't let his fear show, though, because he didn't want to give Deathwing any more ammunition with which to torment him. Deathwing tormented him anyway, teasing his body with featherlight touches and caresses, arousing him to the point of pain before stopping entirely and letting Nozdormu fight to control his breathing and bring his body back under his own control. Deathwing left after that and didn't return until hours - or maybe days - later.

Nozdormu came to fear Deathwing's return. Constantly chained to the table, unable to move, Nozdormu was forced to endure the pleasure Deathwing's touches elicited from his body. He was forced to endure the fuzziness that came over his mind when the pleasure became too much. He was forced to endure the pain that came from not being able to come and release the pressure that was building up inside him. He couldn't fix his problem on his own. He had to rely on Deathwing to do it for him, and he hated that.

Deathwing seemed to know how to play Nozdormu's female body like an instrument. Each touch of his fingers - and sometimes his mouth - created a blaze of fire within Nozdormu's belly that spread out along his bound limbs and settled between his legs. He bit his tongue and clenched his teeth and fought to keep from making sounds that Deathwing would only take for encouragement. He had to hold out just a little longer. He had to stay strong until Deathwing became complacent enough to believe he was victorious in breaking him and freed him from his chains. That, though, seemed long in coming.

Just as long as it was taking for the potion to wear off.

Deathwing also continued to call him 'Nozdormi' while he was suckling Nozdormu's breasts or fingering his labia and clit or his insides that became slick with fluid at the first bass rumble of Deathwing's voice. If Nozdormu fought back, either physically or verbally, asserting his sense of self or trying to avoid Deathwing's touches, the black dragon would stoke the fire in Nozdormu's blood until it was a wildfire and he would leave him like that for hours, days, weeks before his next visit. The wildfire would subside into a smolder, but it would never really go away.

Nozdormi began to associate the unbearable fire with the name 'Nozdormu'. If she insisted that was her name, then Deathwing would bring her to the peak and leave her there, suffering, until he returned to play with her again. That would be days, maybe. She couldn't tell, even as the Aspect of Time. There was no sense of the flow where she was being held. No sun, no light save for the dim illumination that never changed, not even a fresh breeze that would carry the scent of changing seasons. Everything about Deathwing's touch was painful and Nozdormi wanted to avoid what was painful. She thought about the others, if it was true that Deathwing held them captive like he held her captive, and if they were being subjected to the same torture she was. Perhaps one of them would be stronger than she, and one of them would be strong enough to break free and rescue them all.

That was the hope she held to. And the hope that the potion that was affecting her body would wear off. Because only then could she call herself 'Nozdormu' and believe it.

But time was her enemy, for all she ruled over it. It worked against her, torturing her just as much as Deathwing did. He never inflicted any physical pain, only caressed her and made her feel the fire that rushed through her blood and made her crave more, just enough to put the fire out for a while. But he never did. Whatever he saw in her eyes kept him from quenching the flame, kept him from touching her further, kept him from freeing her from the chains that bound her to the table. He wanted her broken, and damn it, it was working.

Perhaps it was months, maybe even years, before Nozdormi felt something in her body beginning to shift and change. She watched in perverse glee as her body began to revert to its natural state. His strength returned too, and he was able to shift his head enough to look at the chains that bound his arms. Time was his enemy, yes, but it was also his weapon. Nozdormu inhaled deeply and then blew the breath onto the chain across his right arm, accelerating time for the iron. It rusted immediately, becoming weak enough for him to break with just a flex of his muscles. He twisted to do the same for his other arm, then his waist and legs. He slid off the table and stood on wobbly legs. His body felt weak; it was still reeling from everything Deathwing had done to him, and from the torture of his mind from both the pleasure and the potion. It would take time (he laughed, unable to stop himself) before he recovered fully. But in order to do that, he needed to escape.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing, Nozdormi?"

Deathwing's voice radiated out of the darkness, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. Nozdormu's head snapped up and his eyes darted around, trying to find the black fiend but unable to locate him. He bared his teeth in a vicious snarl. "I told you before, Destroyer, that you weren't going to win. I'm free now."

"Are you? You're still stuck inside your room, and you can barely stand. You should just lie back down, Nozdormi. You'll feel better."

Nozdormu's snarl became more vicious. "Try all the tricks you want, Deathwing, but you haven't broken me!" His skin began to ripple and change as he shifted from his elven form to his dragon one.

And then he immediately realized something was wrong, at the same time Deathwing began laughing.

While his elven form may have recovered and reverted back to its natural state, his true form, his bronze-scaled self, _hadn't_. His draconic form was still _female_. That shock was enough to stall his movement. It was enough that his mind was sent reeling.

A great weight suddenly landed on top of her, and teeth sank into her throat, just behind the base of her skull. The weight bore her down, pinning her to the floor. Deathwing's scent filled her nose, triggering the fire, the impossible to quench blaze. Her body immediately reacted to his presence, as did her mind. Nozdormu - Nozdormi, whoever she was - reeled immediately as she smelled him, as she smelled his desire and intent and her body answered his in the most incredible way possible. Deathwing's laugh vibrated against her throat, even as she thrashed and fought to escape his grip. The two dragons wrestled and fought, but for all of Nozdormi's attempts, Deathwing still held tightly to the back of her throat, not allowing her to turn her head and breathe the sands of time upon him, nor allowing her to twist enough to gouge her claws into anything important. The scent of blood filled the air, but she couldn't tell if it was hers or Deathwing's.

He pinned her once, using his considerable strength to lift her up high enough that he could slam her back to the floor and stun her. Nozdormi felt him behind her, felt him nudging her tail out of the way, felt the heat of his flesh against hers. The head of his cock pressed against her and she clenched, roaring in fear and frustration and denial. If he answered her, then he would have to release her head. Then she could fight back.

He answered her, all right. Answered her by ramming into her as hard as he could, past her clenched muscles, past her last line of defense. She could feel him inside her, hard and thick and burning. Her body rejected him, but he forced it to accept him. There was nothing she could do. Nozdormi cried out as he pulled out and thrust back in, driving her open wider. Over and over again, deeper and deeper each time. He drove himself into her, pinning her down as he did so, telling her that she was weak, that she couldn't fight against him, that she couldn't do anything but accept his dominance and his strength. She didn't want to accept it, but his pounding flesh wouldn't allow her to do anything but. Nozdormi cried as she felt him release his seed inside of her, and only then did he release her. But instead of fighting, she lay supine on the ground, her eyes closed tightly. She felt his presence before her and gazed upon Deathwing, his black scales glittering in the dim light.

His lips drew back, displaying sharp teeth stained with her blood. "Are you still willing to fight?"

She shook her head.

"Who are you?"

"I... I am Nozdormu..." she breathed out.

A rumble escaped Deathwing's throat. "I see we still have work to do."

He batted her head as a cat might bat at a dazed mouse, and she had no strength left to fight him. He circled her again, and as much as she tried to get to her feet and turn to fight him, she couldn't stop him. He mounted her again, stoking the fire to the point of unbearable pain. His cock stroked the flesh deep inside her with obscene gentleness; his teeth bit at her throat, lower this time, in a display of dominance rather than a move to keep her from fighting back. She couldn't anymore. She couldn't fight. She couldn't do anything but let it happen.

When he was finished with her this time, he left her. She didn't change, unsure what would happen if she did. She could still feel him pounding inside of her, filling her with his essence, and leaving her to stew in it. More time passed, and when he visited her again, she cringed away from him. But Deathwing wouldn't allow her to avoid him, and once more she was subjected to his weight, to the sensation of him inside her. The fire continued to build, continued to burn, and this time he left her unfulfilled. He had his pleasure from her, but wouldn't give her any in return. Why? Why? Why?

When he visited her again, but didn't touch her. Didn't mount her. She cringed away from him, watching him with fearful eyes. He asked her, "What is your name?"

"Noz..." she hesitated. If she referred to herself as 'Nozdormu' he might leave her. He might ignore her again, and who knew how long it would be before he visited her again? "...Nozdormi..."

A pleased smile appeared on Deathwing's draconic visage. It made her stomach flutter pleasantly. "And who am I?"

"Deathwing."

The smile vanished, making her panic. "It seems we need more education."

Nozdormi surged to her feet and prostrated herself on the ground before him, making a noise low in her throat that was almost a whine. "No! No, Master! Forgive me!"

"What was that?"

"I... I'm sorry... Master."

That pleased smile appeared on Deathwing's face once more. He almost purred, a sound that made her happy. "Very good. It seems I ought to reward you."

She twitched, but made no noise escaped her. If he rewarded her, it was because she deserved it, not because she begged for it. He knew what was best, after all. His claw caressed her snout, starting at her nose and heading upward to her cheek. She fought to keep still, knowing that if she moved, he would leave her. He paced around her, nudging at her sides with his nose until he was right behind her. His tongue snaked out and licked her hole, delving inside of her and igniting the fire that burned her blood and made her maw part to release a low moan. His rumbling laughter sent vibrations through her that made her arch toward him and beg for him to continue.

His weight covered her. She felt his hard flesh press against her, then slide into her. He filled her with his cock, pulled out and thrust in, slow and leisurely. Nozdormi knew she had done something right then, because her master was stoking the blaze into a wildfire. He brought her to the very edge and at last pushed her over. Nozdormi clamped down hard on Deathwing's cock as she came, milking him with each ripple of her orgasm. He bit down gently on the back of her neck and thrust deeper into her than he ever had before. He came after her, rewarding her with his seed. He pulled out of her and allowed her to curl up against him, nuzzling him and thanking him for being so benevolent.

Deathwing gazed down upon his newest conquest and laughed with all the power of an avalanche.


	4. Chapter 4

**Malygos**

It fascinated him, the magic working itself upon his body. The Aspect of Magic, Malygos, studied his changed body and tried to figure out what exactly had happened to him. He had been sleeping off a nice kill when the goblins had arrived. He hadn't thought much of them, no more than a nuisance that would be easy to deal with, so he had lazily lifted his head and blew ice on them. Many were frozen into little statues that tumbled backwards and shattered upon the permafrost, but many more still came. When he saw the chains, Malygos realized that these goblins were serious about capturing him, and so he rose and began to fight with tooth, claw, magic, and his breath weapon. He swallowed many in the fight. It was only now that he realized they had poisoned him. He'd swiped at a group carrying thick chains, missed, and had crashed to the ground. He'd felt them fit a muzzle over his head and that was the last thing he remembered.

He'd woken in this cavern, enough to house his blue-scaled, draconic form twice over. It was bare and dimly lit. Not that it bothered him; he could see just as well in the dark as he could in bright daylight, after all. What really fascinated him was his own body. He'd woken up in his draconic form, which surprised him. Still, he was chained by links twice as thick as his claw and quite strong. He'd tried to break the chains already; whatever they were made of, they were impervious to his strength. He couldn't use his ice nor could he use his magic. A muzzle was clamped tight around his head, preventing him from doing more than growling. Not that he was doing much of that. His head was turned as much as the chain wrapped around his neck would allow, and he was looking between his rear legs.

 _He_ had become a _she_.

And that fascinated him.

He couldn't figure out why anyone would want to capture him just to experiment upon him. Certainly there were better ways to torture him than this. He thought back to the day he was captured and realized that the goblins he'd gobbled up had been wearing vials of a strangely colored liquid. He hadn't thought about its danger at the time, but now that he was seeing the results for himself, he would have been better off just running away.

 _Well,_ he told himself, _hindsight is fifty fifty._

He turned his head away from his transformed body and peered at the chains binding his legs and wings. The thicker chains were tied around his forelegs, shoulders, neck, and wings, while thinner chains were wrapped around his hind legs and his tail. A little bit of thrashing proved that, though they were thinner, those chains were still just as strong as the ones binding his front half. The chains wouldn't allow him to travel more than a few inches in either direction, either, giving him barely enough room to shift and stretch.

He froze as a dark familiar scent filled his nose. He shifted his head and looked upon the burning golden-red eyes of Deathwing. Malygos gasped and jerked, causing Deathwing to laugh with a deep rumbling noise, like the very earth he commanded. Trying to recover, Malygos smiled awkwardly, as if he was trying to invite Deathwing to explain the joke so he could really laugh as well.

"You look good like that, Malygosa." Deathwing said, padding around Malygos' prone form with long, measured steps.

"It's Malygos, as you well know, and I suppose I should thank you for the comment. I suppose I should also thank you, since this must be your doing?"

Deathwing grinned, sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light. "Who else would have the resources to capture all four Aspects and hold them indefinitely?"

Malygos fought not to let his surprise show. Deathwing had captured all four of them? Ysera, Nozdormu, _and_ Alexstrasza were here? Impossible! "There's no way you would be able to do that."

"Believe what you will. It won't make any difference."

"What do you intend to do?"

"I would think, by the state of your current situation, it would be obvious."

Malygos growled, allowing the sound to issue forth between his teeth. "I don't believe you."

"As I said, believe what you will." Deathwing stopped behind Malygos, out of his field of vision. His claws trailed gently along the blue scales of Malygos' thighs, tracing little circles down his legs and up to his hips, even along his tail. "Nothing will change the fact that I've won."

Malygos hissed, trying to jerk his body away from the black dragon and failing because of the chains. "You haven't won anything!"

Deathwing lowered his head and nuzzled Malygos' thigh with obscene gentleness. He said nothing, only allowed Malygos to feel what he was doing. Malygos growled and hissed and struggled to no avail. He felt everything Deathwing was doing to his changed body, the nuzzles, the gentle licks to his scales, and hated every minute of it. He couldn't fight. He couldn't defend himself. And then he felt Deathwing nudge aside his tail and screamed in denial as he felt the black dragon's tongue touch the softer, changed flesh hidden between his legs. Despite himself, pleasure spiked up his spine and he felt his stomach and abdomen clench, and he felt Deathwing's rumbling laugh as the black dragon forced his tongue inside the soft, wet flesh that was now there instead of what should have been.

How long Deathwing licked his insides, Malygos didn't know. He hated every minute of it, and it seemed like forever before Deathwing finally drew his head back and left Malygos' backside to pad around to his front. Malygos couldn't help but stare at Deathwing then, seeing the large male's cock hanging below, erect and hard. He shuddered, hissing. Deathwing just stared at him, smiling widely. Then, the former Aspect turned and vanished into the darkness that dominated the ceiling of the chamber.

Malygos, still reeling from the feelings elicited by Deathwing upon his new body, closed his eyes and keened. It was all he could think of to do in that moment, after being violated like that. When he finally calmed enough to think clearly, he knew that he had to escape Deathwing's clutches, and he had to do it soon. There was no telling what Deathwing would do to him - or the others, if what Deathwing said was true - if he remained here. The only choice he had to escape the chains binding him was to shift forms and then make an attempt to escape. Malygos believed he could do it. So he closed his eyes and concentrated. His body began to shrink in a slow, controlled way. The chains binding him began to loosen. He did it in stages, careful to keep the chains from rattling too noisily or crashing to the ground completely. At last, he was in his high elven form, carefully laying the chains on the ground and listening for any sign that he was being watched.

He located the door, but it was locked, presumably from the outside. He didn't want to cause too much noise so he didn't bother to try to knock it down. There had to be another way out. Deathwing hadn't entered the chamber by the door, so there had to be another way out. Malygos shuddered at the thought of changing into his altered draconic form, but there was no choice. Without the chains binding him, he would easily be able to fight back should Deathwing attempted to subjugate him again. His flesh rippled and turned to scale, and he shuddered as he remembered what it was like to be helpless under the Destroyer's weight. He fought down the memory of Deathwing touching him... _there_... and spread his wings for flight.

He never got the chance to get off the ground.

Deathwing materialized out of the darkness and crashed down upon Malygos with all his weight. The blue's breath was driven from his lungs and as much as he struggled to regain it, he found it almost impossible with Deathwing pinning him to the floor.

"I had thought about being kind to you, old friend," Deathwing hissed into Malygos' ear, "but it seems my efforts would be in vain. I wanted to experiment a little bit with you in ways I hadn't with the others. It seems I was right to watch you."

"I don't want your kindness!" Malygos snapped back, the words weak and barely audible as he tried to breathe and speak at the same time.

"Oh? That's quite a shame. But if that's how you feel..."

Malygos lunged upwards and back, the sheer malevolent sound of Deathwing's words sending a new spike of adrenaline through his altered body. His female form was slightly smaller than Deathwing's, but he still had all the physical strength he'd possessed before. The move caught Deathwing by surprise and his weight lifted off Malygos for a brief second. It was enough to allow Malgyos to face his enemy and unleash a powerful blast of frigid air upon Deathwing's nose. The former Aspect roared in pain and rage and retaliated with a blast of molten lava that struck Malygos on the shoulder as he wriggled out from beneath Deathwing. Malygos bellowed with his own pain, then turned and roared a challenge that was answered by his enemy.

The two dragons clashed in that chamber, roaring and biting and clawing, drawing blood and ripping off scales, teeth sinking into vulnerable wings or attempting to gain holds on throats, tails, or legs. Malygos leaped for the darkness that covered the ceiling, knowing that Deathwing's way in - and his way out - was located up there. Deathwing's maw snapped shut on his tail and pulled him back down, slamming him hard enough into the stone floor to make the mountain shake. Malygos struggled to get to his feet, lashing his tail back and forth to try and land a devastating blow against Deathwing's head. He arched his neck as he felt teeth graze the back of his neck, dangerously close to finding a grip just at the base of his skull, and kicked as hard as he could to get Deathwing away from him. The black, however, didn't retreat. Instead, he grabbed hold of Malygos' wing with his massive maw and twisted his head.

The sound of bone snapping filled the chamber along with Malygos' pained roar. Then Deathwing pinned the broken limb to the ground with a giant claw, using the blue Aspect's pain as a weapon against him. Malygos screamed as he felt Deathwing's weight press against his backside. He screamed as he felt the bones of his wings grinding to dust under the black dragon's claw. He screamed as he felt Deathwing's cock, hard and thick, force its way inside him. He screamed as Deathwing pulled out and thrust back in, tearing his fragile inner flesh and introducing new pain that Malygos had never felt before.

Malygos finally stopped screaming when his body went numb to all sensation. Vicariously, he still felt Deathwing's weight atop him, the motion of the black dragon's hips, and friction of Deathwing's cock inside him, but any feeling of pain was gone. Then, perhaps minutes or hours later, he felt the flood of something hot and stinging fill his body, and Deathwing finally moved off of him.

"I told you," Deathwing said, a triumphant tone to his words, "that you'd want my kindness. Don't worry; I'll be back later."

Malygos didn't watch Deathwing leave. He cringed against the idea of a 'later'. The pain was too much to bear once, let alone twice. But there was twice. And a third time. Any time Malygos defied Deathwing, any time he fought, talked back or said anything that displeased Deathwing, the pain he felt was immeasurable. Deathwing would never be gentle about forcing his way into Malygos' body, and he would always reiterate his desire to show Malgyos - Malygosa - kindness. She, however, brought the pain on herself always. It was her fault that she was hurting. It was her fault that he had to show her that he meant what he said. Everything that was happening to her was her fault.

Malygosa cringed whenever Deathwing visited her. She was afraid of him, terrified that anything she might do would cause him to punish her. The only way to get him to show any kindness toward her was to obey his every command. Sometimes, though, some part of her still railed against anything Deathwing would do to her or ask her to do, and then the punishment came. Or, worse, he would leave her alone for hours, days, weeks, and tell her that it was her fault he couldn't pay attention to her because she wasn't obedient. He would compare her to the others, and say she was the worst of all his consorts because she just wouldn't behave. She didn't want to be the worst. But he terrified her, and as much as she wanted to say it, she didn't, because giving voice to something like that would only cause him to hurt her or ignore her more.

When he visited her this time, Malygosa didn't cringe when Deathwing approached her. She bowed her head in submissiveness and said nothing as he towered over her. When he gently stroked her healed wing, she fought to stay still and not show any sign of fear. When Deathwing told her to move forward and crouch down, she did so without argument.

"Very good, Malygosa," Deathwing purred, using a single claw to draw a line down the blue dragon's spine to her tail and then beneath it. "You are such a good girl. I think I'll show you some kindness today. Do you have something to say to me for that?"

"Thank you, master, for showing me kindness." Malygosa whispered, subdued and grateful. She shifted just enough without any prompting, making Deathwing rumble softly with pleased laughter.

Deathwing made sure to keep his movements gentle as he rose up above Malygosa, and made sure to keep them gentle and slow as he slid his cock inside of her. He made sure to keep his pace tender and faux-loving as he rode her, thrusting slow and deep to ensure every hot, wet inch of Malygosa was stroked by his need. She shuddered and clenched him, milking him as he pulled out and pushed in, and when she came - he wasn't too far after -, Deathwing made sure Malygosa knew it was because he was feeling generous, and because she had been very, very good.


	5. Chapter 5

**Alexstrasza**

Alexstrasza, Aspect of Life, knew something was wrong when she had come to the meeting place of the Aspects and found herself alone. She waited for hours for the others to appear, but none of them did. She sought them out in their lairs, but none of their consorts nor anyone else of their flights knew the location of their Aspects or when they would return. It wasn't unusual for Ysera to spend a majority of her time in the Emerald Dream, nor Nozdormu floating amongst the sea of time, studying the different timeways and ensuring they flowed as they should. Nor was it unusual for Malygos to hole himself up somewhere to work on some project or another that fascinated him. What _was_ unusual was that none of the Aspects had deigned to inform their consorts or flight of their intentions, or where they were going, or how they could be reached.

So Alexstrasza, the Dragon Queen, had searched on her own, checking all of the places that her fellow Aspects might have chosen to stay in. Her search proved fruitless. Yet she couldn't return to her own flight without ensuring that her friends were safe. So she continued to search, and had discovered something incredibly odd that she believed required her attention. As she flew closer to the ring of mountains, she recognized goblin-made zeppelins puttering around them. Then she realized that they were steadily moving toward her. That didn't bother her as much as it should have. She was much bigger than the zeppelins, brilliant crimson, armed with tooth, claw, and fire. Even goblins would know better than to pit their flammable creations against her.

At first she thought that they were changing direction to avoid her, but then she realized that they were moving full speed ahead, shifting into attack positions. By the time they reached her, they would be too far apart for her to attack together. She would have to focus on one specifically before the other, and that would leave her at the mercy of the other zeppelin if she wasn't fast enough. She picked up speed, flapping her wings harder to bring herself abreast of the first zeppelin. Her lungs expanded, taking in air to ignite the flames resting dormant inside her.

She never got the chance to attack.

As if in coordination, the goblins on each zeppelin deck turned massive spearguns her way and fired. Instead of spears or other ballistae, nets fired out and expanded, wrapping around her maw and her wings, tangling her. She had to choose - attack and fall to her death or struggle free of the nets and escape. She chose the latter, but dropped several hundred heart-stopping feet before she finally disentangled her wings from the nets.

Then two other zeppelin that had been hiding in the shadows of the first two roared out of nowhere, bearing a large chainlink net between them. Alexstrasza couldn't avoid it and collided with it with enough force to make the engines on the two zeppelins groan under the strain. She roared in anger and struggled to free herself from this new obstruction. Suddenly there was a strange buzzing sound, and Alexstrasza screamed in true pain as electricity surged across the net and into her. She caught a glimpse of a massive shadow, then became limp and unresponsive.

She woke in a strange chamber of earth and darkness. She tried to rise, but found herself bound by iron links twice as big as her claw and three times as heavy. They wrapped around her shoulders, neck, forelegs, and wings. There was an iron band around her jaws, preventing her from opening her mouth wider than a few inches. Her tail lashed, creating thunder in the dimly lit chamber, but her tail, like the rest of her, was bound tightly.

"I must say, Alexstrasza," came the earthy rumble out of the darkness, "that you make the most delectable image."

"Deathwing." The Aspect of Life hissed out. She managed to raise her head enough to turn and peer at him. "I should have known."

He melted out of the darkness, black scales and precious metals glinting in the dim light of the chamber. His golden-red eyes sparked as he regarded her, and her lips lifted to reveal her teeth. She hissed, warning him away. Deathwing made a mock bow in response, continuing to prowl around her. "Normally," he said, "I would use this moment to gloat. To say something arrogant, inviting your response of 'you'll never get away with this' or 'someone will stop you' or some other nonsense. But I'll just inform you of the absolutes. First, I've already gotten away with this. Second, no one is going to stop me. No one knows where you are. No one knows how to reach you. No one is coming for you. Least of all your fellow Aspects."

"You're lying."

Deathwing laughed with all the power of an avalanche. "Am I? Should I show you?" He lifted a claw and snapped his forefinger and thumb together in mockery of a human snapping, and pointed at her. "Ah, no. You haven't been properly educated yet. You'd set a bad example, especially for Malygosa. The poor girl just got over trembling every time I come near her."

Alexstrasza stared at him, unable to believe his words. Malygosa? "What have you done to them?" she growled, her voice filling the chamber with power. "What have you done to my sister?! To Nozdormu?! Malygos?!"

He stopped in front of her and bowed his neck until they were staring into each other's eyes. "The same thing I'm going to do to you, my dear Alexstrasza. Every king needs a queen." He paused, tilting his head to one side. "All right. Maybe one isn't enough for me. I like a quartet. Makes things interesting."

"You're despicable!"

"Thank you!" He rose above her, reaching out with a claw to caress her snout around the iron band, running the sharp point of his claw lovingly under her chin and around her cheek, up to her horns and behind her head. "Just so you know, I saved you for last. I figured you deserved the honor, seeing as you're the Dragon Queen and all."

She jerked her head away from his talon, snarling. "Don't touch me."

Deathwing's lips drew back to reveal sharp teeth. "You're in no position to be ordering me around, Alexstrasza."

"Aspect of Life or not, I _will_ kill you."

"You say the sweetest things. Makes my blood boil."

Alestrasza's chains rattled as she lunged toward him, but the chains wouldn't give more than a few centimeters at best. Deathwing casually placed a claw on the back of her neck and pushed down, pinning her. Her chin hit the floor and her teeth cracked painfully together. A hiss escaped her and she thrashed against him, as futile as it was. Her tail tore chunks of stone off the walls and made giant cracks in the floor, but it still wasn't enough.

Deathwing laughed. "That's it. Fight. Make it all the sweeter for me."

As soon as he lifted his claw off her neck, Alexstrasza gasped out, "Get _away_ from me!"

Deathwing slowly strode around her, his laughter trailing him like a cloak. "As I said, you're in no position to be ordering _me_ , Your Majesty. Well, She who was formerly known as the Dragon Queen."

Alexstrasza strained with all her might against the chains binding her but other than being able to lift herself off the floor by precious few inches, the chains held. She didn't realize until it was too late that Deathwing was allowing her to move because he wanted her to be the orchestrator of her own fate. When Alexstrasza felt his heat against her backside, felt his weight upon her hips, felt the hot, moist air of his breath against the back of her shoulders and neck, an incredible fear came over her such as she had never felt before.

"Don't." she begged, unable to change her position now that he was pinning her down with an arm planted firmly across her shoulders where her wings met them. "You don't want to do this."

His voice was a whisper against her ear, he was so close to her. "Oh, but I do. You don't think I would have gone through all this trouble because I didn't really want to do something, do you? Seems like an awfully big waste of time on my part then."

Alexstrasza tensed her body and snarled. Her body strained beneath his, fighting the chains and his considerable weight. His response was to sink his teeth into the back of her neck and yank her head back so that she had a good view of what he was about to do to her. His cock was long, thick, erect, and he allowed her to gaze upon it like it was something to be worshipped. She hissed at him, jerking her head in an attempt to yank her neck out of his grip. She felt scales rip free from her skin and the smell of blood filled the air. Her defiance only seemed to incense him more. Deathwing bore down on her with all of his weight, his maw opening wide to clamp down on her neck again, harder this time. Alexstrasza roared in pain, then screamed as she felt his cock force its way inside her.

He tore past her clenching muscles, forcing himself deep inside her. She felt his length slide roughly against her insides until it simply couldn't go any further, then felt hot friction as he pulled out of her, only to feel the burn of pain as he thrust back deep inside her. Alexstrasza tensed more, which only increased the pain, and only increased his amusement. He released her throat in order to laugh, the chamber echoing with his voice. The claw that wasn't being used to pin her to the cavern floor gripped tight to her thigh and he lifted her just enough to change the angle of his thrusts. Her eyes squeezed shut as the burning pain was suddenly increased. She could feel each thrust, each withdrawal, as a new stabbing pain that made her sob uncontrollably. Deathwing taunted her with pleasured grunts and laughter, slamming harder and harder into her, showing no sign of slowing or stopping.

His tongue slid along the wounds on her neck, lapping up her blood. He pulsed inside of her, as if her blood was an aphrodisiac to him. Her body was on fire, a singular point of pain and shame and impotent anger, and then she let out a wail as Deathwing thrust deep inside her for the last time, filling her with his seed. It was only then that he pulled out of her, only then that he let her go, dropping her to the cavern floor like she was a toy he was finished playing with. But he wasn't finished, Alexstrasza, to her horror, discovered.

His tongue snaked its way inside her, lapping at the blood he had drawn. She shuddered as she felt it curling against her soft insides, as it tickled and laved at her labia and clit, and deeper still until she was sure it was as deep as his cock had been. Alexstrasza squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could, clenching her jaw so hard that her teeth ached. It wasn't fair, she thought. It wasn't fair that Deathwing could cause her so much pain and then cause her so much pleasure in the same instant from two separate appendages.

It was over almost as soon as it had begun. Deathwing lifted his head away from her and circled around to her front, allowing her to watch him lick his lips. His sinuous tongue darted in and out, licking her blood and other fluids off jet black scales before disappearing into his maw. Her body still quivered from the attention he had given her, still reeled from the pain he had inflicted upon her. She lifted her lips to bare her teeth and snarled at him.

He 'tsk'ed at her. "Alexstrasza, I don't want to hurt you. As the first among my consorts, I only wish to make you happy, so that you, in turn, can make me happy. Don't defy me. I don't want to have to mar that beautiful body of yours."

"You may use me," she ground out, "you may hurt me, but you will never break me!"

Deathwing's lips drew back from his teeth in a broad smile. "Well then. Let's see how long you hold out."

Alexstrasza expected pain when he touched her next, but Deathwing was gentle, even sensuous. He attended her (she hated to admit it) better than any of her own consorts. He found new and creative ways to make her body sing, but when she snarled at him or snapped at him, he gave her a disappointed look and would leave her, aroused and wanting. He would leave her like that for hours, days even, or so she thought. Trapped in the chamber as she was, Alexstrasza had no sense of time. Her days were measured by Deathwing's visits, by his tests. She was determined to outlast him, no matter what he did to her. She was determined to play his game, to escape the confines of these chains, and then rip his throat out. She considered changing forms to escape the chains, but the ploy was obvious. Her smaller form would be more vulnerable to him, as would she be mid-change or even immediately afterwards. She had to find the patience somewhere within her and endure.

It was harder to do than she expected.

Between the chains and Deathwing's attention, Alexstrasza was finding her resolve wearing down. He would never let her come, though he had no trouble achieving that for himself. Each time he forced himself inside her, he kept the pace slow and gentle, almost sensual, allowing her to feel his entire length sliding along her passage, the head of his cock massaging that one place deep inside her that chased away any pain she might be feeling and left pleasure in its wake. His seed would flood her insides, the sudden warmth in her belly telling her that he was finished with her for the time being - and she would have to suffer with the unsatisfied burn his cock elicited between her legs. It was becoming unbearable, but she knew the only way she could fix her situation was to give in. Deathwing would never use pain against her now, because pain was a tool she could use to fuel her defiance. Pleasure, though, was much harder to run from. Much harder to deny and ignore.

"What is it, pet?" Deathwing asked the next time he visited her. Alexstrasza looked at him standing so far away from her, his sinuous length emerging from the shadows as if borne from them. "What's wrong?"

Alexstrasza shuddered at the warmth of his voice. He spoke to her that way only when he was truly concerned about her. She looked at the chains encasing her legs and wings and whimpered. "Please. I can't stand it anymore. Please take off the chains. Please... I... I can't..."

Deathwing moved closer to her, each step slow and deliberate. He reached for her head, caressing her snout and pulling the band from her maw. She shivered with pleasure at his generosity. He purposely moved within biting distance, most certainly within burning distance, but Alexstrasza kept her head low to the floor, her eyes downcast in submission. "Do you burn, pet?" Deathwing asked. "Do you ache for me?"

"Yes." she breathed in response.

"Does my queen wish for her king to reward her for her loyalty?" His talons slid along her scales, hooking beneath the chains binding her and casually snapping them loose. His power made her body shudder and she let out a sigh of admiration. Deathwing smiled. "I can smell you, Alexstrasza. I want to reward you, but I don't know if you deserve it."

Free of the chains, Alexstrasza rose slowly to her feet and lifted her head to stare at Deathwing. For a long minute, Deathwing firmly believed that she was about to lunge at his throat, that she had actually faked her submission to him. But then her head dipped and her eyes lowered, and the former Aspect of the Red Flight made a sound akin to crying. "I'm sorry!" she whimpered. "I'm sorry! I've displeased you, Master."

Deathwing relaxed and smiled lazily, confidently. "Not at all, my queen, first among my slaves. As I said, I want to reward you, and you need to prove to me you deserve it."

Her golden eyes focused on his, uncertain. He continued to smile, though he was ready to kill her if what the voices inside him spoke true. Her head lowered a little further, until she could snake her maw between his legs. Her tongue toyed with his sheath until his cock, heavy and erect, slid out to claim attention for itself. Alexstrasza's tongue wrapped around his cock, squeezing the hardened flesh and licking wet trails up and down the shaft, over the head, around the cap, and back up again. Deathwing hissed and closed his eyes halfway, rewarding her ministrations with a purr of encouragement. He let her continue to taste his flesh and when she did nothing more - save perhaps an exploratory nibble - he commanded her to move back.

She did so, eager to receive her reward.

Deathwing pushed Alexstrasza down, manipulating her hips until the red dragon was prostrate on the floor with her ass in the air. He pushed aside her tail, revealing her glistening hole. The scent of her need filled his nostrils and he growled appreciatively.

"Please," Alexstrasza begged, her voice filled with nothing but want and need, "please, Master. I need you inside me. I can't stand it anymore."

Deathwing let out deep, rolling laughter as he pressed the head of his cock against her hole and slid into her. Deeper and deeper he pushed inside of her, until he couldn't anymore. Then he pulled out and shoved forward again. He started the rhythm soft and slow, bringing her up to the edge of completion before he stopped moving. She whimpered and begged, and he started again, harder this time. He snaked his head forward and bit Alexstrasza on the back of the neck, just under her skull. Her body bowed, changing his angle, and eliciting a moan of pure ecstasy from her. Deathwing laughed against the ruby scales of Alexstrasza's neck and stilled his motions, allowing her to roll and gyrate against him, driving him deeper and deeper into her. Then Alexstrasza's body seized and she let out a noise that was a cross between an incredibly pleased moan and a roar. Deathwing answered her with a roar of his own, dragging her back onto his cock to shove it as deep as he could inside her before he came, pulsing seed deep into her womb.

When he separated from her, Deathwing stroked Alexstrasza's spine and purred, feeling ecstasy from not only his coupling with the former Dragon Queen, but from his success in his plan. There was only one thing left to do now, and that would take time to solve.

"Master?"

Deathwing looked down at her, his cruel smile becoming even more cruel. "Don't worry about anything, pet. Everything will be as it should be very soon."


	6. Chapter 6

**Epilogue**

Deathwing soared through the air toward his mountain lair, no longer worried about anyone following him. It had taken a great deal of time to ensure that he would no longer be bothered by the lesser flights. It hadn't taken more than three or four deaths to get the green, blue, red, and bronze flights to stop questioning him about if he knew where the other four Aspects had gone and when, or if, they would be returning. He had silenced the dissenters by arranging assassinations, using his own black flight as his knives. He used them as enforcers of his will, rooting out dissent and making those who even _thought_ of speaking out against him vanish. His rule was one of fear and distrust, and no one knew who had his ear. No one knew when they would be the next to disappear because either Deathwing himself or someone else believed that they were speaking ill of the only Aspect who seemed to have their best interests at heart.

He alighted on a precipice and surveyed his kingdom once more. The skies were empty, save for clouds that were skidding by, propelled along by the invisible winds. Deathwing stretched his wings, allowing his glorious, ebony self to become illuminated by the cold sun. He became a beacon for anyone actually choosing to gaze upon their sovereign. Then he headed into the mountain, down the ever-darkening path to the hidden chamber below.

The goblins were all gone. Deathwing had allowed them to flee for their miserable lives and ate those that were too slow. The chamber was free of anything remotely related to the previous occupants, and instead was filled with something else.

As Deathwing entered the chamber, they emerged from the shadows, heads bowed, whispering greetings and inquiring about his well-being. Red, bronze, blue, green, they circled around him and pressed close to him, nuzzling and treating him to such attention that he relaxed. His queens, his mates, his slaves, presented themselves for his amusement, and he selected one to be the first to feel his pleasure for herself.

As he slid into Alexstrasza's hot, wet, willing heat, Deathwing purred and closed his eyes halfway, watching his other three slaves eye his cock with a hungry gaze as it slid in and out of Alexstrasza. When the first tongue laved his hard, burning flesh as it pulled from Alexstrasza's body, Deathwing gave a growl of encouragement. Not wanting to be outdone by Malygosa, Nozdormi and Ysera added their attentions to his cock as well, and perhaps even to Alextrasza's hole since it was intimately linked to his flesh.

Deathwing closed his eyes as the heady pleasure of victory washed through his body, just as potent and ripe as the pleasure of that heat around his cock and those tongues worshipping his flesh. He had succeeded in his endeavor. He had succeeded in making all the flights his, had succeeded in making the world his.

He roared as he came, pulsing hot and hard inside of the first among his slaves. It was good to be the Dragon King.


End file.
